 Let this tempest rage,
This pandemic spread, Though my loved ones be With the next ones dead. God is highlighting Our mortality, Calling us to faith For eternity. Let the church doors close, Gathered flock must wait. We will go online There to congregate. When I’d hug my friends Banished from their room I will learn to hug Over Skype and Zoom. Let the tempest rage, Let the markets fall, Let the restaurants close, Shut salon and mall. My provision rests Not in Wall Street’s banks But in God above To whom all give thanks. Let the dark clouds fall, Mist that shrouds my way, When I cannot feel Strength to face today. I will fix my eyes Far beyond the rain, I will rise and serve Loving through the pain. Let their tempers rise Let them post in hate, Spread mistrust and lies Then retaliate. I will let my voice Speak for hope and light, I’ll not be ensnared By the lust to fight. This storm will not last, Sun will shine again. These hard times will pass; God’s grace has no end. In one hundred years Memories erased Of this pandemic Not of hope and faith. by John Wesley Yoder April 2020 View the video edition |